


Tell Me the Truth

by LivetoDream333 (orphan_account)



Series: Double-O Drabbles [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, James is a closet romantic, M/M, Made up medical stuff, Medical Inaccuracies, Prompt Fill, Torture, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LivetoDream333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James' captor is a complete idiot and Q is a genius.</p><p>Prompt: If you need another one how about this: James is taken prisoner and given some form of truth serum. To avoid telling his captors anything secret he starts rambling about his feelings for a certain someone back at HQ... I'll leave it to you if Q has managed to hack into the surveillance systems and is listening, or he finds out afterwards, and of course what he does with the knowledge now he's got it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Happy to have another prompt. :D This almost ended up really angsty, but I went with fluffy instead... Meh, oh well.

Tell Me the Truth

 

There is a chemical released in the body when a person lies and if that wasn’t enough someone had to find a way to use it against people. Truth serums were developed across the world, serums that caused a nearly unendurable pain if the poison was triggered by the chemical that runs through the human body. Unfortunately, each brand only ever seemed effective during one session, because the body quickly learns to build an immunity to the poison, but there are always many versions to the formula, like different strands of the flu. Catch it once and survive you’re immune to that strand, but there’s the chance someone might slip you a different version.

Lying kills most men.

Truth spares the pain.

Silence typically gets you injected with the chemical and you feel the pain anyway.

James had gotten it three times. Once he lied and it had nearly killed him, the other two times he babbled endlessly. James knew it was all about the question posed.

Smart people asked very specific, narrow questions so that they get the answers they want. Idiots ask broad questions. One broad question could give a person free license to babble on and on about whatever they feel like talking about, as long as it’s truth. They can ignore all of the other questions posed to them and keep babbling, giving their body time to gain immunity or at least burn off the foreign chemical.

James current captor was an idiot. He’d spent days torturing James, breaking his body, but not his mind, not even in the slightest, before he decided to try the serum. Then he asked the stupidest question anyone could ask.

“Tell me the truth, Mr. Bond.”

“The truth?” James asked, looking up. His captor opened his mouth, realizing his mistake as James smiled. “Truth is, I’m sore as fuck. You did well, breaking my leg and the waterboarding was a nice touch, not to mention the torch, burns are terrible. Truth is though, that I’m not nervous at all. You’ve had me here for nearly a week and there’s no possible way I’m going to break for you, because I know someone’s trying to find me.”

“No one is looking for you, Mr. Bond.”

“That’s a lie.” James snapped. “He’s looking for me, even if everyone else thinks I’m dead, I know he’s looking for me… I really didn’t like him when we first met, posh git sighing about Turner and claiming that I was some broken-down warship that should be hauled in for scrap. He was too sure of himself, but he earned a bit of respect when he stood up to me. He looked like a Uni student but he had bollocks enough to stand up to me, that takes some courage. He earned my respect when I asked him to commit treason and he didn’t even think twice, he sighed, took a sip of tea, and bloody well trusted me enough to help me do what I had to do, even if it meant nothing but harm to himself. He risked himself for me, hard not to trust a man when he gives everything up so simply after not knowing you for more than a few moments.

“Then I grew fond of him, of course. M was dead, Alec was out of town and when I came back from my first mission after M’s death I felt…I felt very unsafe. Didn’t know where to go, just knew I couldn’t be alone. I knew bad things would happen if I were by myself. Despite what he thinks, I’m not that bad with computers, hacked my way into his file, don’t know why, found his home and went there. I knocked on the door at half-eleven and he came to the door. Knowing what I know about him now, the discoloration under his eyes meant that he hadn’t slept in over two days, but he let me in. He let me into his home without question, stitched me up, got me a drink and set me up in the most easily defended room in his flat. His room, he let me sleep in his bed because he knew I needed to feel safe. The damn kid sat a gun next to me on the side table and sat with me until I fell asleep, never said a word, never questioned me, but he was there, a constant presence. Safety.

“That’s when we became friends, for me anyway. I knew I could talk to him if I needed to, sit with him silently if I couldn’t talk, break into his flat in the middle of the night if I couldn’t be alone… He was safe, constant, trustworthy. That combination isn’t something easily obtainable for me.” James smiled gently.

“Shut up, I want to know about the—”

“You should have asked then.” James responded flatly. “Anyways, I trust him further than I can throw him, and he’s a skinny git so I could throw him a long way, I trust him with my life and right now I’m trusting him with my sanity because, you know, torture does strange things. Damn, I’m going to have to go to psych after this, M will force it…I hate that rule. Anyway, he was always there for me, so I tried to show him some sort of thanks for it. I’m not really well versed on how one shows gratitude…because I don’t often feel that, but I got him his favorite chocolates, the dark chocolate ones that he sneaks out of his desk at random intervals, but they always bring a smile to his face. Sometimes I bring home tea if I find anything good. He usually drinks Earl Grey and I try to make sure he never runs out, but sometimes I’ll bring back different types as well, he needs more than one thing, honestly. I got him to appreciate a chili and chocolate tea, that was delightful.

“But you see, I’m an idiot, because he’d smile at the gifts and frown when I didn’t bring equipment back and I’d tease him because he looks like a child—he’s really not, you know, he’s actually in his thirties. Also, he’s the only person who I’ve ever seen look younger with stubble, honestly he simply must have some sort of anti-aging gene in him because he only seems to get younger. Anyways, I was an idiot, especially through those first months for friendship. I mean, I thought it was friendship on my end and half-annoyed friendship on his, but I was wrong on my end.

“Took me months to realize that I’m bloody in love with him. That’s saying something—well a lot of things—too. Because trust always comes before love with me and I don’t trust anyone, last time I did it didn’t end well. But I’m protective by nature and possessive by nature and even a bit quick to fall in love when the situation is right. There he came in of course. Funny, brave, smart, clever, charming, handsome, kind, trustworthy. I mean honestly he’s brilliant, far more brilliant than I could ever be. I just thought I was a bit protective of him or just really close, but then again I started having these feelings.

“If you’d ever seen him you might understand, but lord he’s gorgeous. He’s a little bit shorter than me, but sometimes I feel like he’s taller, he never relax enough, sort of makes me want to massage the tension out of his shoulders—he’d punch me if I tried, I bet. He hides his eyes behind these ridiculous—but I suppose they’re necessary—glasses, but they are the strangest shade of green I’ve ever seen. They’re pretty though, very unique. He’s handsome too, got a wonderful smile too, his mouth in general is lovely. His arse is perfect too, as much as he tries to hide it. And his hair, it’s permanently tousled. If I didn’t know better I’d say he had some secret lover ruffling it every time they saw each other. It’s worse when he gets up, I mean, I’ve seen him in his flat and it sticks up all over the place when he wakes up. It looks so soft, sort of want to just run my hands through it.

“See? I’m an idiot, I mean who has those thoughts about a damn friend? That’s been happening for a while now, wanting to stay near him when I’m home, wanting to stay in his flat, wishing I could hold him when he sleeps, wanting to take care of him. These aren’t just friend feelings… I swear I’ve been in love with him for months, ever since I was shot in China and I asked him not to stay on the damn line, he may not be young, but I wasn’t going to let him listen to me start choking on blood, especially when I knew he’d take it personally if he didn’t get help to me in time. He refused, just sat there and talked to me, kept me awake and alert, kept me alive…” James sighed. “Even though he is probably more annoyed with me than anything else most of the time and he doesn’t feel the way I do I know he’ll get me out of here. Could be in an hour, could be tomorrow, could be next week, but he’ll get me out. So I know I can hold on through whatever you put me through.”

“You fucked this up.” One of the captors snapped at the other.

“You should really ask questions better. What else shall I babble about while I wait for this to wear off? I could tell you about what I’d love to do to that boy if I had the chance… Or maybe I could talk about something else, I know a lot of random things. I can teach you how to play poker if you like. I can tell you how I would love to kill you and how I will kill you if I get my way… Which would you like to hear?” James smirked.

800Q8

James slowly blinked back into wakefulness and heard a voice that instantly helped him relax. “He was injected with truth serum, you said?”

“Yes.” Q answered.

“Did he give anything away?” M’s voice asked. Silence. “Q?”

“What? No, nothing.” Q answered again. “They didn’t ask the right question. He gave nothing away. Besides...they're all dead.” Q stated after a while.

“Alright… You going home?”

“In a little bit, I still have some things to finish.”

“Alright, get some rest, you need it.” M said, leaving the room.

“Q?” James asked gently. He looked around and saw Q stand over him.

“Hello, Bond.”

“What happened?”

“Took me a while, but I found you, got you out before they killed you. You passed out though. You have two broken bones in your leg, but it has been re-set and it will heal quickly. Several bruised ribs, a few gashes, fifteen stitches, and a concussion. Plus my equipment is damaged…”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Q smiled.

“Were you watching?”

“Yes…”

“How much did you see?”

“All of it.” Q said after a moment, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Oh…” James said awkwardly. Q didn’t have to ask him if he meant it, even though his title had never been mentioned, it was quite obvious who he was talking about and that he meant every word. Q bit his lip for a moment before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to James’ lips. Running his fingers through James’ hair. He pulled back after a brief second and continued stroking James’ hair. “Q?”

“I love you too, you idiot.” Q smiled warmly.

“Really?”

“Why do you think I haven’t killed you yet for ruining all of my equipment?” Q chuckled, slipping his hand into James’.

“I’m doing better.”

“I know.” Q smiled gently.

“Are you going home?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No…”

“Alright.” Q smiled.

“You’re tired.”

“I’ve been trying to find you.” Q commented. James slid over, wincing as he moved. “Don’t do that, you idiot.”

“I’m fine.” James promised. “Come on.”

“Trying to get me into bed already?” Q teased.

“Is it working?”

“Only if you get some rest.”

“Agreed.” James nodded. Q slowly lay down, laying close to James. “Dinner?”

“When you can walk.” Q responded.

“That’s no fun.”

“You’re injured.”

“Still no fun. Italian?”

“Sounds lovely.” Q sighed, running his hands through James’ hair.

“And if we just happen to end up in bed afterwards—”

“Sh,” Q chuckled. “Go to sleep.”

“But—”

“James?”

“Yes?”

“Love you, now go to sleep.”

“M’kay.” James smiled, running his hand through his hair before he shut his eyes, letting the medicine drag him back under.

**Author's Note:**

> Anything you want me to write, just let me know...   
> Much Love!


End file.
